50 Shades of Drake 5 and 6

Chapter Forty

    "Don't get me wrong," Aubrey was quick to say. "This room is as much about pleasure as it is about pain and punishment."

    No amount of training in the world could prepare me for a room like this, Destiny thought, turning around in a slow circle. A spanking machine. The man owns a spanking machine. Her gaze fell on the device.

    He moved to stand behind her. "I was kidding about my hands being too tired, you know," he said softly into her ear. "My hands would never get tired of this." He grabbed her ass and gave it a gentle squeeze.

    The gesture was meant to be endearing, but it was difficult to find anything endearing while standing in a room that resembled Dexter's laboratory - and not the cute little cartoon character who aspired to dominate the world, but more like the blood splatter analyst by day and self-justified murderer by night. All that was missing from this room were the large sheets of plastic that Dexter laid out on the floor before dismembering one of his victims.

    Aubrey wrapped his arms around her.

    She nearly jumped out of her skin. She may have even yelped, having forgotten that he was standing that close to her.

    "Are you all right?" he asked her.

    "This...is a bit much," she said when she found her voice.

    "I wrestled with whether or not I should show you the room now or wait until later in your training," he said. By the tone of her voice, she could tell that he was kicking himself in the ass for choosing to show her the room sooner instead of later.

    She shook her head slowly. "My reaction to this room wouldn't be any different, no matter how long you trained me."

    "You don't like it." He sounded disappointed.

    She almost laughed out loud. Like it? "It feels...cold," she said, glancing around it. "There are no personal touches in here. It's all...machines and tubes which I'm frightened to even ask you about. It's so...clinical-feeling, almost. There's nothing romantic about this room."

    "This room isn't about romance," he explained.

    "It's about pain and pleasure," she repeated from his earlier statement. "I get it. I just..."

    He grew tense around her, as if he was bracing himself for her next words.

    She sighed, not wanting to disappoint him any further. Didn't he say that he wanted me to tell him how I really felt? I can't lie to him and pretend to like this place. "I have an idea, but I don't know how you'll feel about it."

    "I'm listening," he said.

    She turned around in his arms. "How about...we redecorate the room? Together? Make it seem more customized to who we are, as a couple."

    "Redecorate?" he echoed.

    "Do a little rearranging, and...warming up the place, so I don't feel like I'm going to be chopped up into little pieces and thrown away."

    He rolled his eyes upwards. "Does the room really make you feel that way?"

    She turned her had and looked towards the sink with the strange tubes hooked up to it.

    "Those are just for water play," he told her. "Nothing nearly as crazy or psychotic as you're thinking."

     "Do I want to even know what 'water play' is?" 

    He tilted his head back and laughed. "I showed you this room way too soon. I should have waited."

    "No, I'm glad you showed me."

    "So that you know to keep one eye open when going to sleep next to me?" he finished for her knowingly.

    She pursed her lips shut.

    "You're afraid of me. Again. Admit it."

    Her eyes narrowed in concentration while she tried to determine how she could admit it without admitting it. "I'm not afraid of you necessarily. I'm more afraid of this room."

    "The room isn't who'd be punishing you," he said in a low voice, grabbing her ass again. "That would be me."

    "Then maybe I'm afraid of you a little bit," she confessed. "Only a teenie bit, though."

    "There is no need to be afraid of me," he assured her. "Granted, I should have put the hoses away. If you don't know what water play is, those must look pretty intimidating."

    Everything in this room looks intimidating, she thought, giving the room another cursory glance. She tried to step inside of his shoes and look at the room through his eyes, eyes of a man who'd lived this lifestyle now for years. It was an attempt that failed on all counts. She couldn't look at the room objectively. It looked like a room in a house of horrors.

    He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "If you would like the room to be changed, we can change it."

    "And if I want certain items in the room replaced?" she questioned.

    "What would need to be replaced?"

    "Anything that has touched another woman," she muttered, looking pointedly at the aisle of vibrators and dildos.

    "Everything has been sterilized."

    "Yeah, you say that, but..." Her mouth slanted in distaste.

    He laughed and shook his head. "If you want certain items replaced, they will be replaced."

    "Hmm." She angled a look at the nearest wall. "And if I wanted to add some more color into the room - or at the very least, an accent color?"

    "You're trying to change the entire room," he protested. "What do you have against blue?"

    "I don't have anything against blue, but...there's just so much blue in here." She walked away from him and over to a wall that had a long, mirrored window. The window was bordered by an expanse of deep blue. She reached out and touched the wall beside the mirrored window. It reminded her of the windows that were in police interrogation rooms in all of the crime dramas that were on television. "What is this window for?"

    Aubrey remained near the center of the room. "What do you think the window is for?"

    "I think it's for watching," she said slowly.

    "You'd be correct," Aubrey said.

    She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Who watching who?"

    He shrugged. "Whoever we want. Me watching you. You watching me. People watching us. Us watching people."

    One thought occurred to her, and she couldn't shake it. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready for any of this.